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Chapter 10 - The Winged Knight of Stormlands (R)
🕑 Added 2025-09-22 14:42:26 +0000 UTCStorm’s End
When Robert Baratheon jumped off his dragon, the majority of the people gathered in the courtyard wished him dead. When he began to soar in the skies with man-made wings, they all watched with gaping mouths.
The sight of a man, flying alongside dragons rather than riding the beasts was one that would be remembered for ages to come.
King Aerys, who was watching with glee as Robert plummeted to his demise, let out a scream of frustration and ran back into the keep.
Steffon just sighed, tired from his eldest’s antics, while the rest watched in awe, except Renly, who was wondering if he could do the same.
—
Robert flew over the Storm’s End, the Shipbreaker Bay, Durran’s Point, and finally returned back to the castle. He dived towards the people, flying above the crowd, before landing.
Immediately, he was raised to shoulders by the joyful Stormlanders chanting his name, before Elbert’s voice rose above the chatter. “To the Winged Knight of Stormlands!”
—
Stormlanders loved celebrations as much as they loved warring, and were quick to plead Steffon Baratheon for a feast in Robert’s honour.
Wine flowed like a raging river, dangerously emptying Storm’s End’s cellars, though Robert made sure to drink in moderation. He even sang for the crowd, just so he wouldn’t listen to the Marcher Ballads.
They were long, and got boring very quickly.
Japes, stories, and toasts filled the hall, and Robert was content to enjoy it.
—
“Cousin, your spectacle was very eye-catching.” Once again Rhaegar was being pleasant, and it sent shivers down Robert’s spine in disgust.
“I have a feeling you’re not here to kiss up to me?” His number one fan and lackey, Connington, flared up like a puffer fish at Robert’s insult.
Rhaegar did not let the words affect him. “My father has agreed to your terms, on the condition that you find the swords before us.”
“Works for me, let’s go.” He was already halfway there anyway.
—
Solar
Aerys was there, as well as Queen Rhaella and their children, Rhaegar, Shaena, Daeron and Aegon, his parents and grandmother, along with the Starks except Ashara and Catelyn.
Kingsguard were standing vigilant behind the royal family, with Hightower, Dayne, Whent, Darry, and the rest he didn’t know.
“Quite the audience we have, but whatever floats your boat.” Robert said while taking a seat before the royal family.
Aerys opened his mouth, but Robert raised his hand to stop him. “Before I say anything, I want you to agree to our terms again, before the sight of everyone here.” Targaryens were notorious for breaking promises, and Robert wouldn’t be fooled.
Gritting his teeth in pain, Aerys repeated the promise. “If you get your hands on Blackfyre and Darksister before House Targaryen does, you may keep them.”
“Good enough. Ask away.” It would be so sweet, to let them know that he had Blackfyre, but maybe for later.
“What do you know about the prophecy that we don’t?” Rhaegar was eager, as the very prophecy was the reason King Jaehaerys wed his children, Rhaella and Aerys.
“Its really simple. The prince that was promised will rise and deliver the world from darkness. Now, who the prince that was promised isn’t certain but there are two possible choices.” As George had said, the prophecies were unreliable, slippery and misinterpreted, and the point wasn’t an answer, but how people’s beliefs in the prophecy shaped their choices.
Queen Rhaella, who was wed to her brother even though she detested the idea, wanted to know which one of her children were the ones the woodswitch Jenny had brought to the court prophesied. “Who are they?”
“The first is Rhaegar and Lyanna’s firstborn child, a son, the other is your daughter.” Jon was older than Daenerys by nine months or so, but with how the timeline was skewed, that would probably change.
All eyes turned to the sole daughter of Aerys and Rhaella, who was taken back by the sudden interest. “Shaena?”
Raising expectations and then crushing them was one. “No, the one that will be born next, your last child, Daenerys Targaryen.”
Shaena breathed a sigh of relief now that she was no longer the focus of the room. “Daenerys, after the dreamer?” The Queen asked, her hand on her womb, while Aerys looked at his wife with wonder, perhaps for the first time in their marriage.
Robert shrugged. “I guess that’s why you named her that. Anyway, either one, or both of them, are the prince that was promised, which is a bit tricky, but I think it is the latter. In my dreams, Rhaegar and Lyanna’s son roused men to fight, while Daenerys brought the dragons to the world.”
The reason he was giving so much about the prophecy, in return for Blackfyre and Darksister, which he would have kept anyway, was because of a plan, a rather long term one.
“Then how did you do it?” Daeron, just like most other Targaryens, had questioned how the dragons could be hatched, but the answer had eluded him as well.
Leaning back with a pompous smile, Robert shrugged. “It is easy to figure out once you use your head. Continuing, the darkness mentioned in the prophecy is the Night King and the White Walkers.” While the Night King was a show only invention, seeing as most characters here resembled their show counterparts, such as Tywin Lannister, Eddard Stark and Olenna Tyrell, he was going with that plot.
There was a silence in the room before Aerys scoffed.
“Peh, nothing but fairy tales.”
“On the contrary, they are quite real, and have been hiding beyond the Wall, gathering a horde of undead to destroy the living.” A weapon out of control that threatened to destroy the planet sounded like a fun enemy to fight to Robert.
“What proof do you have?” If those fairy tales were true, then the North would be the first line of defense against the Others.
At least Rickard was willing to listen rather than outright refuse to listen.“I haven’t been to the lands beyond the Wall, so nothing, but I can tell you how to get it.”
“How?”
“First, there is a man right beyond the Wall, known as Caster, a disgusting abomination that needs to be put to sword. He has children from several women, and once the daughters grow old enough, he takes them as wife too. But the boys, he leaves them out in the open to die, and the White Walkers take them to be turned to their own kind and replenish their numbers.” If he ever bothered to go to the Wall and beyond it, Robert would definitely kill Caster.
“The other?” The thought that the humans were turned to White Walkers was not a pleasant one.
“Buried beneath the Fist of the First Men, you will find dragonglass weapons and a cracked horn that might be the Horn of Winter, wrapped in oilcloth and old leather. Now, unless sometime in its history the Watch had fallen so low that they resorted to using dragonglass weapons, one of the rare materials that are effective against the Others, then they had another purpose.” Speaking of the horn, obtaining it would be a great trump card to use against the North.
“What else?” The Northern lords had kept the Watch supplied with weapons for centuries, even in the direst of situations. There should be no reason for them to use dragonglass weapons.
“Children of the Forest, you can find a small enclave north of the Haunted Forest, in the cave of the last greenseer. I am sure they can validate my claims.” Robert would need to find them first of course, to see if they were the ones responsible for creating the Night King, if it existed that is.
Aerys, who was not familiar with the Northern culture except the bare minimum that he had been exposed to, wanted to know more. “What is this horn he speaks of?”
“A horn that supposedly can bring down the wall. Is there no way to be sure of it?” Rickard explained it to the father of his good-son.
“You can blow it I suppose, and probably start the apocalypse early.” If the Wall did come down, Robert, as the Father of Dragons, would have to deal with the undead horde.
Finally, he turned to the one man who was more interested in this matter than anyone else. “So, Rhaegar, while it is possible that your son with Lyanna will be the prophesied saviour, it is more likely that both him and Daenerys make a part of the prophecy. Then again, these things are vague and you rarely understand what a prophecy exactly means until it passes.”
“Our son…” The Crown Prince spoke with wonder, but his betrothed did not share the sentiment.
“Are you telling me that you wanted to marry me for a gods damned prophecy?” Lyanna, who was silent until now, seethed between her teeth.
From escaping marrying a man who only wanted her to be good-brothers with her brother to a one that wanted her for a prophecy? That wasn’t any better to her.
“Is this true?!” Brandon bristled. He never liked Rhaegar, who preferred to bury his head in books and scrolls.
Robert grinned from ear to ear. “Why are you so surprised?”
“Son, not now.” His father pleaded, the revelations weighing down on him, and he did not wish to witness more Targaryen family drama.
Rhaegar was quick to diffuse the situation. “Lyanna, this is not the place to discuss this, and cousin, please refrain from involving yourself in our matters.”
Robert raised his hands in surrender. “Anything else?”
Daeron, who was frowning during the entire conversation, spoke. “You said it was easy to figure out the secret to hatching the dragons, yet I find it hard to believe.”
Robert blinked, his face blank. “I find it hard to care that you don’t believe me. It’s not like Storm’s End will be hit first if the living dead breach the Wall.” First it was the North, who did not like him, then Riverlands, who did not like him, and Vale of course, who loved Robert as one of their own, and finally the Crownlands and King’s Landing before they even reached Stormlands.
Not that Robert was petty enough to let thousands of innocents die just because their lords had a grudge against him.
“You, who was nothing more than a drunken brute that attacked the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdom in full view of the royal family and the great lords, discovered how to hatch dragon eggs by thinking about it?” It was rare to find someone with so much sense who liked to talk his mind, only for him to be an enemy by association.
“Hey, not my fault you lot are not as interesting as alcohol. As for attacking Rhaegar, I don’t see the white cloaks as threats.”
“They are the greatest knights in the Seven Kingdoms.”
“A good knight doesn't mean a good warrior, and I don’t see anyone except Barristan as a great warrior.” The old knight shifted in his place, and Robert couldn’t help but think how he was wasted on the Targaryens.
“Perhaps we should return to the matter at hand.” Queen Rhaella suggested and Aerys was quick to join his wife. “Enough with your prattling.”
“Since you believe that the Night King and the White Walkers are real and a threat, should we not join forces?” Rhaegar offered to gauge whether Robert would agree or refuse out of spite.
He could hear the offer at the least. “I am open to suggestions.”
Aerys, both as the King and as the head of house Targaryen, made the offer. “Shaena’s hand is not yet promised, if you wed her, your first daughter with her will be wed to Rhaegar and Lyanna’s son as the future queen.”
“I am against incest.” She was pretty, no doubt about it, but they were second cousins so it was a hard pass.
“Then your firstborn daughter with whomever you wed as the queen.”
“My experiences in the last five years made it so that I am against arranged marriages, and I don’t really see anyone in the Seven Kingdoms that I would wed.” He was in a fantasy world, no way in hell was he going to marry an ordinary lady or a princess when he could find a warrioress or a sorceress.
“Then perhaps Jaehaerys or Visery can squire for you.” They had nothing to offer except to squire one of their own.
“Sounds too much like raising children. I’ll pass.” Robert didn’t really feel like being responsible for the upbringing of a child, especially one that wasn’t his own.
Rhaegar was getting frustrated now. “There must be something you want.”
“I’ll get back to you if I ever figure it out.” The room went silent for a while, and seeing as it was over, Rhaelle rose from her seat.
“Now, grandson, since you are finished here, can I get a dragon?” That request had the eyes of everyone in the room widen in shock, and Robert chuckled.
“What are you even waiting for? Let’s go grandma.”
—
“I was thinking of claiming Ra, do you think it would be possible?” Whenever she watched the dragons, the smallest dragon would always be up to play, whether by himself, or by annoying his brothers.
“No.”
“Since you ride Obelisk, then Slifer?” That one was a moody beast, lazy one second, ready to eat someone the next, but the alternative was no dragon at all.
“No.”
“We are going to hatch you an egg.”
Their matching grins told the world that things would only get troublesome, for everyone but the grandmother and grandson pair.
—
It was rare for Tywin Lannister to be so furious.
He was furious when their bannermen mocked his impotent father, refusing to pay their debts. He was seething when his witless father, Tytos, wed his only sister, Genna, to a Frey weasel.
The bannermen, Tarbecks and Reynes had paid the price of their arrogance, while the weasels were spared from sharing the same fate due to the advantage the Crossing provided, and Genna’s marriage was well established.
And now, the third great insult and shame to his house came from none other than Cersei, his daughter, who was promised to Prince Daeron and would be the Princess of Summerhall.
Killing his daughter was out of the question, only because she still was a part of his dear wife, Joanna.
It wouldn’t have been so disastrous if she had slept with Robert, a noble, but being deceived to lay with a commoner?
That was almost as horrible as the fact that his daughter was not a maiden.
The architect of the whole matter, Robert Baratheon, was out of the reach of his claws now, but Tywin would eventually find a way.
The door knocked, and Ser Dayne’s voice called out to him. “Lord Hand, His Grace summons you.”
“We should not leave him waiting then.”
—
Aerys had never liked Rhaelle.
His aunt, she may be, but the meddlesome woman was nothing but a headache he couldn’t rid himself off, since kinslaying was such a bothersome matter, and she was Steffon’s mother.
Now, her grandson, that oaf Robert, had not only hatched dragons, but was going to give one of them to Rhaelle.
The broken alliance with the Lannister’s would have to be renewed. Aerys would have mocked Tywin for how foolish his perfect daughter was, but did not have the mind for it.
“Your Grace, the Lord Hand has arrived.”
“Sit.” He ordered Tywin before the proud lion could do so. “Our houses will be tied, regardless of your daughter’s dishonor. Shaena will wed your son and heir, Jaime, and your youngest will foster at the court.” Aerys didn’t care for the dwarf, but at least the little monstrosity could be amusing whenever he was frustrated.
Perhaps he could make the dwarf of Casterly Rock into a court jester.
“Your Grace, my youngest is….” Tywin began to refuse, but Aerys waved his hand dismissively.
“I won’t hear of it. Rhaella has been troubling me over the matter, and now she can silence her mouth.” If nothing, at least not having to hear Rhaella’s requests would be worth it.
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“That knight of yours, the Mountain, can he kill Robert?” He had heard that the Mountain was eight feet tall and could hack a man in half with a single blow.
Hopefully Robert would share the same fate.
“There is no man alive that can match Ser Gregor’s strength, Your Grace.”
“I suppose we shall see.”
—
“Any idea where to find bandits or some such to burn?”
“Lord Errol’s lands are plagued by a small band of outlaws, but they are hard to catch.”
“We have air superiority.”
“That magister, Illyrio, how did he even find five eggs?” A handful of eggs had left Westeros, whether as gifts or sold for gold, but for five of them to be in one place? It was unheard of these days.
“He only had three. I found the other two elsewhere.”
“I found some old records of Cannibal flying to Valyria after the Dance, and followed its track to a small island just outside the Smoking Sea. It had a fight with a shedragon and they both died. Only one egg had survived the fight and the ravages of time.” He had considered selling the bones, but they were too weathered to be of much use, and had left them there to rot.
“As for the other, a merchant approached me to sell it if I lend a hand to destroy his enemies.” Which he was sure was not canon, because at the least that merchant would have offered the egg to Daenerys to gain her favor. The one on the island was a complete unknown, and following Cannibal’s tracks might have led to the island, or it might not exist in canon at all, just like the other egg.
“Two eggs, grandson? Any other secrets you would like to share?” Two eggs meant two more dragons, and if any of them were to be a female, then House Baratheon’s, or at least Robert’s, power would be solidified for generations to come.
“I’ll let you know if anything comes to mind.”
“Why didn’t you tell us beforehand?”
Robert wasn’t exactly keeping it a secret, it was just that the matter never came up. “I was going to gift the egg to you on your name day, but since you asked, I thought today was as good as any.”
“My boy, you returning alive and healthy is the greatest gift you can give me. I can’t bear the loss of another family member.” First the death of her parents and siblings, no matter how estranged they were, followed by her husband’s death, had left deep wounds in Rhaelle.
“You’re going to make me cry now. Does that mean you don’t want a dragon?” Robert teased to lighten the somber mood.
It worked as Rhaelle chuckled, welcoming the distraction. “Hah, no, I still want one.”
“I never got to ask, but you never liked Aerys. Why is that?” Even before the whole matter at Harrenhal his grandmother wasn’t a fan of Aerys.
“It was his parents, Jaehearys and Shaera. Rhaella never wanted to wed Aerys, though her words fell on deaf ears. I wasn’t silent about my thoughts on their betrothal, and they never liked me for trying to prevent their destiny. Aerys feels the same too, so we don’t like one another.” They had wed poor Rhaella to Aerys, who, even as a young man, was a beastly boy with no care for what happened around him.
All just to chase a prophecy.
“Speaking of weddings, I am glad you are not fixated on that Stark girl anymore.” Now if only Robert would find a nice girl to settle with and give her some great-grandchildren everything would be perfect.
Just remembering the memory made Robert curse his younger self.“As I said, I just saw Eddard as another brother, that’s all. Not like an alliance with House Stark offered us much anyway.”
“There.” Rhaelle pointed out to a small camp area, with a dozen men sitting around a bonfire, and a ditch filled with corpses. Wooden stakes were built to act as protection against cavalry, but it meant nothing to dragons.
“Hello there.” Robert greeted the bandits, who were terrified on the spot as they were surrounded by three dragons with no chance of escape.
“Too bad there is no one here to get the reference.” What he wouldn’t give to have someone who understood 21st century Earth references.
“Anyway, didn’t your parents teach you not to resort to banditry? Don’t you know how bad that is for your health?” He mocked the terrified bandits, who looked ready to die of fright.
Robert turned to his grandmother instead. “You don’t have to see this, you know.”
“If I want a dragon, I should at least be brave enough to see it through.” She had no doubt Ormund would eventually have to kill someone, better be ready for it now.
“Alright.” Robert nodded. His grandma was tough. “Catch!” He threw the egg to the frozen bandit, who caught it entirely on chance, before Robert gave the order.
“Ignis.”
Three streams of fire coalesced on the bandits, and they barely made a peep before their throat and lungs were burned. Now, the only sound was that of the crackling flames. The signature pop sound broke through it, and a black dragon, one far larger than his three dragons were when hatched, crawled out of the dying embers.
So, the more sacrifice meant a bigger dragon, because while his dragons were kitten sized, this one was like a large dog. He remembered the red crystal on that fateful day five years ago, and how it must have affected the growth rate of Obelisk, Slifer and Ra.
He helped his grandmother dismount, and she slowly approached the dragon to not startle the beast who was looking around with bleary eyes.
Braving the stench of burnt meat, Rhaelle crouched and held her hand out to the dragon.
Cooing like a dove, the dragon nuzzled the offered hand, and Robert slid off Obelisk’s back to go and take a look.
Being gentle in taking hold of the dragon, lest he loses a finger, Robert checked the beast over.
It was another boy.
Turning to his grandmother, Robert handed the dragon to her, who took the beast with reverence. It soon fell asleep, tired no doubt.
“What should I name him?” There were so many dragon names, but all were associated with Targaryens, and Rhaelle felt no connection to them.
Robert had a lot of names in mind, but his grandmother had no idea what any of them referred to. “Don’t know, something fierce, perhaps?”
“Ormund.”
“After grandfather? If it will remind you of the good times, sure, if not, then it is a bad idea.” His father did say that Ormund Baratheon was a fierce warrior, as all Baratheon men tended to be.
“Ormund it is.”
Before they left, Robert burned the corpses of the victims, the only thing he could do to honour their lives, rather than let them be picked apart by scavengers.
—
Storm’s End
It was well into the night when they finally returned. His family had quickly come out to see the new dragon.
“Goodness, look at how big it is.” Cassana peered closely as the night black beast was hard to see in the darkness.
His grandmother beamed, rubbing the dragon’s head as it securely slept in Robert’s arms. “Meet Ormund, my dear.”
She wanted to carry him, but he was too heavy for her.
Steffon smiled, remembering his late father.“After father? I am sure he would have been proud.”
Anyone who had a dragon named after them would be.
“You had more eggs, Robert? Had I known, I might have asked for one myself.” Steffon teased his eldest, who didn’t even blink before retorting.
“What can I say? I am a man of many surprises.”
“I am your father.” Then again, that never made Robert listen.
A certain Jedi’s reaction to learning his father's true identity came to mind. “You’re lucky it’s late, or I would have caused a spectacle you wouldn’t forget.”
Feeding the dragons first, Robert filled his own stomach before hitting the sack.
—
The next month was relatively peaceful, and the guests only stayed for that long to witness the duel. His grandmother was the one who enjoyed the situation most, as her new dragon, Ormund, followed her around like a puppy, and she made sure that Aerys witnessed it at every possible turn, leaving the King fuming.
Targaryens and Starks came every once in a while to ask him more about the Others and the prophecy, and he was all too happy to answer.
But there were more attention grabbing matters than the prophecy.
Oldtown, the seat of House Hightower, and the sole center of learning in all of Westeros, the Citadel, were going to introduce a new healing school, called Oldtown Medicine Center, to educate a new breed of healers and seek cures for diseases of all kinds.
No matter how much things had deviated, that was not something that should have happened.
If the pace of their research was anything to go by, it wasn’t just someone who wanted to save lives doing good work.
He would need to get to the bottom of it, fast.
For now, though, he had a more pressing matter. The ship carrying Gregor Clegane from Lannisport had just approached the shore close enough to lower their boats so they could row rather than try the treacherous waters and terrain of the Shipbreaker Bay.
Almost eight feet tall, with a build that screamed danger, Gregor Clegane either had some sort of growth hormone related issue, or somewhere down the line one of his ancestors had fucked a giant.
None of the actors in the show could do the bastard justice.
He did not come alone, as his men followed the enormous knight, and Robert spied someone among Tywin Lannister’s little terror group.
A pig on two feet with a manticore sigil, Amory Loch’s ugly face graced the Storm’s End.
Which got Robert thinking.
Why not kill two monsters with one duel?
—
After Clegane had rested, it was time for the duel. Dressed in his white and gold armor with his trusty, double hooked hammer at his side, Robert headed for the Tourney grounds.
They were set up for Stannis’ wedding, but with it cancelled, the place had been slowly torn apart, but a clearing had been left which would act as the arena.
“Did you know Gregor Clegane can rip a man’s head off? And here you are, dueling him. You have outdone yourself, Lord Robert.” Jaime Lannister was waiting for Robert outside the gates, an apple in his hand, and a cocky smirk on his face.
How cute, the lion thought he had a bite. “Is the Lannister pup angry that his sister tried to fuck me rather than him?”
Eyes widening in terror, Jaime looked around wildly to see if anyone had heard. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Sure, you don’t.” Robert could have left the matter there, but it wouldn’t be fun. “I was always curious about something concerning you two.” The story of ASOIAF wasn’t complete yet, and there was a three year gap when Joanna left King's Landing and gave birth to the twins, so anything was possible.
His smirk wiped out, Jaime was more apprehensive now. “What would that be?”
Grinning like a devil, Robert leaned down, looking the would-be Kingslayer in the eyes. “It is well known that King Aerys lusted after your late mother, Lady Joanna, and seeing as you and Cersei commit incest like Targaryens do, perhaps he is your true father?”
“You dare?!” Jaime was seething and his hand went to his word. Robert took a step forward and grasped the Lannister boy’s hand, squeezing it and preventing Jaime from pulling the sword out. “Careful, pup, someone might think you are trying to kill me.”
“I’ll have to leave that pleasure to the Mountain.” Tywin’s perfect golden heir gritted his teeth, but wasn’t going to attack now.
Robert stuck his tongue out like a juvenile. “Not even in your dreams, sister fucker.”
—
Robert entered the arena where Gregor Clegane was waiting for him with a great sword in one hand, and a massive oaken shield rimmed in black iron, bearing the three black dogs of House Clegane on a yellow field.
“You know, I don’t think this will be a fair fight for the big and ugly here. Amory Loch should fight with him too.” Robert pointed his hammer at the pig faced knight.
His parents rushed to dissuade him but Tywin was one step ahead, and accepted it with a ghost of a smile.
“Very well.”
Steffon wanted to slap some sense to his son.
The herald, responsible for starting the combat, disagreed. “My lord, there is no precedent for it.”
Robert patted the man on the shoulder, assuring him that it was fine. “All the included sides agree to it, there is no cause for alarm.”
Amory Loch, prompted by Tywin, quickly entered the arena, taking his place behind Robert.
Clegane at the front, Loch at the back, Robert was surrounded, but not worried at all. Putting his hammer down and closing his eyes, the Father of Dragons listened.
“Begin.” The herald announced, and both dogs of Tywin Lannister attacked.
Gregor brought his massive sword down, intending to shred Robert from left shoulder to hip, while Loch did the same to the other side.
Robert twisted his body to the left, far more agile and quick than his size would indicate, causing the Mountain’s sword to hit the ground, while using his vambrace to block Loch’s swing.
Spinning on his heel to the left, Robert grasped the hammer with his right hand, using the momentum to swing the hooked side straight at Loch’s head.
The hooks pierced through the helmet, and Amory Loch’s head disappeared in a shower of blood and gore, its weight, coupled with Robert’s speed and size, making it a trivial show of strength.
Still spinning, Robert ducked, dodging the horizontal swing from Gregor Clegane, who had extended himself with the monstrous strength behind the attack, and twirled the hammer to the other side, using the opening to shatter the Mountain’s left knee, bypassing the shield entirely.
Gregor Clegane went down with a scream, the pain from his mutilated leg too great to ignore.
The crowd was astonished that the man Tywin Lannister had trusted to kill Robert went down so easily.
“Look at you, so hopeful that your little attack dog would kill me.” Robert mocked Tywin, who could do nothing but watch.
Gregor, who was spewing profanities, decided to mention Robert’s family.
Narrowing his eyes, Robert brought the hammer down on the ruined knee, and tore the leg off, and Gregor’s screams were deafening.
Weakened from the pain and the bloodloss, the Mountain was in no position to resist as Robert removed the helmet and took Gregor’s head between his arms.
“I heard you can tear a man’s head off, let’s see if yours is strong enough to resist.”
Pushing down on Gregor’s shoulder with one leg, Robert dug his fingers to the dying man’s neck, tearing through skin and flesh as hot, sticky blood flowed.
Ignoring the Mountain’s futile attempts to stop him, Robert pulled.
The first tug tore the flesh where his fingers had pierced, the second pull broke bones and put the Mountain out his misery, and the last attempt caused the head to come off with blood flying spilling everywhere.
His armor now a mix of red and gold, Robert threw the head to where Tywin Lannister was sitting.
“These two were horrible monsters.” Robert spoke to the stunned crowd as he removed his helmet.
“Rapists and murderers, I wouldn’t even call these two animals, for it would be an insult to them.”
“If only any of you knew the horrible tasks I have seen Tywin Lannister send those two bastards to commit.” He could describe what they did to Elia and her children, but Robert had made his point to the relevant authorities.
Tywin Lannister and the Targaryens watched him with fear now. It was one thing for Robert to have dragons, another thing for him to kill a dangerous man like Gregor Clegane so easily.
“Come now, you didn’t think this was going to end any other way, did you?” Watching the still silent crowd, Robert began to laugh, and did not stop for a while, even as he left the arena to go and wash.
Today was a productive day.
—
Notes: When I first wrote this chapter, I had considered making Robert kill Gregor Clegane in a gruesome manner like this, but instead chose to go with something more cartoonish.
This time, I chose to go with my original idea, and after chapter 11 is rewrote too, we'll continue with the usual schedule.
Comments
The Cancer Fox
honestly like this more than the Blast Hammer
